


Starting Small

by philindaisy



Series: Of Spies and Small Ones [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Baby Fic, F/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, pre-ca: tws
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 22:38:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4497396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philindaisy/pseuds/philindaisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of the tweet: "Don't imagine Clint and Nat in a SHIELD gym, sitting on a sparring mat that's surrounded by toys, playing with their baby."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starting Small

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this [tweet](https://twitter.com/romanoffsbarton/status/628123189932003328)
> 
> Could potentially be a piece of the series I'm currently working on, I'm not sure yet. 
> 
> Based at some point in late 2013, potentially right after Agents of SHIELD episode 1x07 when Team Bus is at the The Hub.

She doesn’t have to see him to know that the giggling coming down the hall from one of the many SHIELD training rooms in the The Hub is her son’s. For starters, agents don’t particularly bring infants to SHIELD facilities, but regardless, she knows her baby’s laugh.

It’s heartwarming and hilarious; the sight of the world’s greatest marksman sprawled out on a mat usually used for sparring, a giggling infant sitting upright on his chest. Clint’s tickling him as the little boy laughs up a storm, his tiny fist shoved halfway in his mouth.

Baby toys are scattered across the room, everything from their son’s favorite stuffed toy hawk to the musical contraptions that drive Natasha up the wall. At the moment, the mess looks similar to that of their apartment back in DC.  

“Who’s winning?” she asks as she makes her way towards her family.

Clint grins, “Let’s just say this little man appears to take after his mother.”

“Well, he had to get something from me,” Natasha laughs, settling on the mat, “He’s your mini-me in every other way, not that I mind that.”

The baby reaches for Natasha and she takes him from Clint’s chest, allowing her partner to pull himself into an upright position.

“Did you beat Daddy?” she coos at her son, continuing to babble at him.

Clint watches her for a moment, amazed at the scene playing out in front of him. At first glance - which is all most people get - others seem to think Natasha is cold and unfeeling. He knows different. She feels more than anyone he’s ever known. An outsider wouldn’t believe that she has a maternal bone in her body, but he’s only ever known her to be incredible with children, especially their little boy.

He himself had fallen head over heels for their son immediately. Clint had turned out to be a completely different father than his own and he knew he would never be the same. It’s not that he would defy the odds and be different, the truth is, he didn’t need to. The minute he became a father, he knew he would never make those mistakes and his child would never hurt physically or emotionally because of him. He often wondered how someone could ever be a parent like his father. He couldn’t begin to understand how a man could create something as unbelievable as his child and willingly hurt them and tear their life apart from the beginning. It made him sick thinking about it.

The sound of tiny squeals tear Clint away from his thoughts and he tunes back in to find their son flopped down on his back on the mat, stuffed hawk clutched in his tiny fists, its beak in his mouth. Nat’s talking to him, telling him about the first and only time Clint ever beat her while sparring.

“I let your Daddy beat me,” she whispers, winking at Clint.

“Hey, I won that match fair and square.”

“Sure you did,” she laughs, lightly rubbing the back of her finger of the baby’s hand.

“Want a rematch? I think I got in a good warm up with this guy here, bet I could beat you now,” he smirks.

“You wish, Barton.”

Clint grins at her, moving closer. The baby is watching them intently, observing every motion and Clint jokes, “Eyes like a hawk.”

“Actually, in this case, I’d say eyes like Dad,” Natasha laughs.  

She reaches out and tickles their son, who immediately tears his gaze away from his parents and giggles uncontrollably. Clint joins, tickling the baby as well.

The laughter can be heard through the hall and soon, other agents are gathering in the room, confused at the sound. It’s not common knowledge through the agency that Black Widow and Hawkeye have a baby; most agents know of or have at least heard the rumors of their relationship, but only those who spend a lot of time in DC would know about their son, and the fact that most days are, as Sharon Carter would refer to them, “take your mini assassin to work day”.

In fact, it’s entirely normal to find Fury roaming the halls of Triskelion grumbling about various rooms in the building becoming somewhat of a daycare center or playroom for the child of SHIELD’s best master assassins.  

Half of the crowd of agents, mostly junior agents, are gushing over the baby, while the other half just seems confused at the sight of a child lounging in the middle of a top level security training room.

“This is not a playground, get back to work,” Agent Victoria Hand breaks through the crowd, causing the other agents to quickly disperse. She looks annoyed, which is typical for her. “Romanoff, Barton, This is a government facility. It is not the time nor is it the place to be playing house.”

“But look how cute he is,” Clint smirks, eyeing his son, who’s making a very “Barton-like” expression.

She takes a minute, watching the the younger agents resting on the ground, a smaller version of themselves watching her, before she rolls her eyes, turning on her heel as she exits the room, leaving Clint and Natasha alone with their baby.

 “Well, now that that’s over, where were we?” Clint asks, glancing over at their son who’s now perched comfortably in Natasha’s arms.

“I believe,” she answers, eyeing her baby, “That we were about to get Daddy.”

Clint playfully falls backward on the mat, allowing Nat to place the baby on his chest. He laughs as their son gives him a full on toothless grin.

“Oh, no,” the archer says playfully, “I think you win again, buddy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Also, if this was at all OOC, I'm sorry. I have no idea what I'm doing with my life.


End file.
